


Sorrow is a Labyrinth

by WildwoodQueen



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore
Genre: Extended Metaphors, F/M, First Meetings, Gods, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Ariadne and Dionysus (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Mythology - Freeform, One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:54:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22605058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildwoodQueen/pseuds/WildwoodQueen
Summary: Ariadne has been abandoned on an island by the man who she believed loved her. As she begins to come to terms with her past, she meets a wild and intriguing stranger: Dionysus, god of wine.
Relationships: Ariadne/Dionysus (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore)
Kudos: 53





	Sorrow is a Labyrinth

**Author's Note:**

> About the mythology:
> 
> Ariadne is sometimes known as the Mistress of the Labyrinth, for her role in helping Theseus defeat the Minotaur. Stories vary regarding the reason why he abandoned her, but nonetheless, I wanted her to have a voice in this story.
> 
> Dionysus is the god of wine and theatre. He is the son of Zeus and Semele (a mortal woman). He is associated with animals, most prominently big cats, and is often depicted in a chariot drawn by leopards.

This island is like a labyrinth that I build for myself. I find solace in the constant rolling of the waves. At times, though I chide myself for it, I still hope to see the masts of the Athenian ships brimming over the horizon. But all that belongs to the past that is dead, like the shadow who was called Ariadne, Princess of Crete.

I turn back towards the land, towards the lush green of the trees and vines that cover my island prison. Once, I held in my hands a ball of magic thread that would guide a hero through the labyrinth. I recall now, the trembling hope that I felt when I pressed it into Theseus’s hands. I caught the careless sunlight in his eyes, the way that he would smile as if certain of the path that the gods had laid out of him. I paused then, silently cursing his bravery, knowing that he might not return. I blinked back tears as I watched him go, as I feared that he would disappear into the winding corridors and the darkness would swallow him whole. And, as I waited, forcing myself not to pace but to remain still and dignified like any high-born lady, I imagined the horrors that were facing Theseus inside. My heart was red and raw with new love.

He survived. Of course he did. The minotaur, groaning, bled out its ochre blood into the dusty soil. Theseus laughed, radiant as Apollo, and he turned to me. His honeyed words made promises of Athens in its fierceness and splendour. He was the conquering hero and would claim his rightful place, he said, and I would rule alongside him. His eyes were like the sun, and I was blinded.

I do not know why Theseus abandoned me. At times, I still feel dark sorrow rise up from that deep part of myself that still yearns for the marble palace that was my home. And sometimes, I remember how he would run his fingers through my hair and whisper pledges of eternal love. Then, I recall how I woke up after a deep sleep and found myself here. I howled, I wept, I cursed the day that I ever set eyes upon the man. My heart was a labyrinth, and I had reached a dead end.

A sudden noise wrenches me from my thoughts. It is a man. He is examining the grapes on a vine. He has dark hair, wild like the wind in the summer. His skin is swarthy, and I presume he has spent much time at sea. And his eyes, his eyes are the clearest that I have ever seen. Shining. The sky after a storm.

“What are you doing?” I ask. Silently, I curse myself for the oddness of my question. Yet something about this stranger makes me blunt, makes me want to toss aside the ways of my old life.

Without turning to me, he replies, “I am looking at the grapes.”

“I can see that,” I said, amazed at my own boldness. “But why?”

He appears startled. I fear I may have been too forward. He looks me in the eyes as he says, “Wine. It is the drenching of the Earth in light. Light that has been fashioned into the smoothest silk. It is the essence of joy and madness.”

I am taken aback. I consider fleeing. Princesses do not consort with the insane. Though, as I consider my circumstances, I realise that on a deserted island as this, such rules are torn out and fall away like, and I laugh silently at this, like grapes from a vine. 

So I ask, “Who are you?”

“I am Dionysus, God of Wine. And you?”

His words are like a knife to me. It explains how he appeared in this place, without a sign or warning. Old powers are strange and unknowable. But I have heard many old tales, thus I know that the gods are cruel. “You are a god?” 

He appears to read the alarm behind my words. “Yes, I am. I am not human. My mother was human, and she died in a burst of light. My father saved me by sewing me into his thigh, but he did not so much as lift a finger to save her...”

This strange tale washes over me like a flood. I stammer, lost for speech.

He smiles. To my shock, it is a warm smile, kind. I would almost call it human.

“I was raised far from Olympus,” he says. “Nymphs taught me the ways of the waters and the wilds. I danced all night with the satyrs. But fate held my divinity in the palm of its hand, and tossed it on me. Now, I have become a wanderer. I ache for something, but I know not what.” He pauses and laughs. “Now, maiden, I beg of you your name.”

“Well, Dionysus, God of Wine,” I say. “I am Ariadne, Mistress of the Labyrinth.”

“What fate has brought you to this lonely place?”

“Not fate, no. I was beguiled by a man who promised me his love and then abandoned me here. It was my own foolishness.” I turn away. Not wanting to see his face, and not knowing why.

“I am sorry,” Dionysus says, his voice soft like the rustling of leaves. “And you were not at fault. May the gods punish that man, for his faithlessness.”

I laugh quietly at this. I find that there are tears in my eyes. I brush them aside, hurriedly. 

Then, he clears his throat, as if to steady himself. “My lady, you have been wronged. And your wish is my command.” 

This promise shocks me into a wide smile. 

“Thank you,” I say. To my surprise, I realise that I mean it more than I have meant anything in my entire life.

I look at him. And again, I choose to be bold.

“I have decided...” I begin, in as haughty a voice as I can muster. Dionysus laughs, the gleam of his eyes matching the lightness of my tone. 

“I have decided to leave this island. Sorrow has withered me down to my bones and I am weary,” I feel the old ache rise in me, but my courage swells also. “I seek passage from this place. You are divine, and possess powers strange and true. Shall you deliver a maiden her desire?”

He laughs. “Yes, yes, and yes again. I am a friend of the beasts of the wild. And in my need none shall deny me.”

We walk together to the shore, the place where I had spent many hours in solitude, and in yearning. 

Dionysus closes his eyes. A humming starts, a thrumming in the air that soaks me in wonder and in awe. And from the sky, descends a chariot. It is ornate, gilded with pictures of dolphins and ships and scenes so beautiful that I feel that I could spend hours marvelling at them. The chariot is drawn by two great leopards, each with a coat as bright as the finest of fabrics, eyes golden like droplets of sun. 

Dionysus stands firm to face them as they reach the earth. He truly looks like a god now. But when he looks at me, it is with such warmth that I feel my heart stir.

He bows lightly to the leopards, and pauses to help me into the chariot. I climb in by myself. I am giddy but my movements are firm. I have never been so sure.

So I spare one last glance at my prison. The leopards leap into the air, and we are pulled into the blue expanse of the sky. I watch as the trees and the rocks and the sand become lost to the distance. And I smile.

I have been a fool. But that was no fault of mine.

I laugh as the wind rushes through my hair. We are high above the water, and yet I feel no fear. I look to Dionysus. His gaze is as firm and as true as the words that we had shared. My heart quickens as he takes my hand in his. 

And, as we rush through over the wide, open promise of the sea, I think of all my days of grief. It is nothing but a memory now. It is gone, that sorrow, that labyrinth which bound me and would not let me go. 

We hold each other close. I leave my labyrinth behind forever.


End file.
